At Death's Door
by Jewell Trim
Summary: After years of being together. The boys finally meet their end...or do they?
1. The Day The Seven Died

**A/N: Disclaimer I don't own Magnificent Seven characters, only the original characters.**

 **I shot the sheriff, his friends and all of the boys. I'm sorry... Trust me, I'm crying too.**

Ezra let out a low groan as he tried to apply pressure on the bleeding area in his side. His bloody hands were trembling as he struggled to draw breath. The sounds of gunfire and screaming from nearby had him flinching. The action only agitated his wound. Taking in shallow breaths, the gambler turned regulator looked up with teary eyes to two figures huddled together. He blinked furiously as the downed figured of his compatriots were five yards away. Buck had been cradling the young sheriff up against his chest before meeting his own end. Out of everything that was happening, that they should die holding the other in their last moments seemed right. Vin, their sharpshooter, he had seen before he was shot. The bounty hunter turned regulator had been on the roof of the hotel across the street when bullets came flying. All he could see now was the man's body, leaning slightly over the ledge, the sawed off rifle had fallen from the loose hands and dropped down below. Ezra never got the chance to see Josiah or Nathan again. The two men had been following some of the shooters into a building that, as soon as they went in, was razed to the ground by several sticks of dynamite. Their deaths were no doubt instant. Another groan escaped his lips and he went still as a person ran passed him.

 _It won't do to let them on that you're still alive._

The gambler hadn't seen Chris. The last time he had seen their leader, the man had been trying to get something to patch up their wounds. He had hidden Standish behind a barrel in between two buildings. A familiar sound of jingling spurs brought out a sigh of relief.

"We need to get you somewhere safer." Came a quiet voice.

"I don't…" Ezra took a couple of seconds to catch his breath so he could finish his sentence, "…walk." In his fuzzy mind, it was a full sentence, but he wasn't quite aware that he was starting to lose words.

"I can carry you. Just hold onto that wound." Chris said, already knowing the man well enough to know what he was trying to say.

The man in black, pulled Ezra up to his feet and immediately had to take on all the weight. They shuffled down the little alley and found a nice wall of crates to hide behind. There, they would have time to recover. Ezra let out an unceremonious gasp as he was laid back down. Gritting his teeth, he tried to bite back curses. Larabee wasn't looking all that much better, but the man continued to try and patch up the man he considered one of his brothers. He had found the well-worn bag of supplies from Nathan's clinic.

"Mista…Jackson… won't be pleased." Ezra slurred and tried to give his companion a smile. Chris's frown etched in his brow never went away. His eyes concentrated on what he was doing. "You have… no clue…what to… do, do you."

"Shut the hell up Standish." Chris said gruffly, but there was no anger in his tone, "If you have energy to talk, save it for breathing."

Ezra couldn't help smiling at the man, and for several minutes, stayed silent and did just that.

"This is all my fault." Chris muttered. Ezra, who had closed his eyes when there was no talking, opened them again to look at the man kneeling over him. "I should've seen this coming."

Ezra lifted a bloody hand and grabbed a fist full of the blond's black jacket. The look of surprise was worth it. He had to wait to gather his strength though, but was able to manage spitting out, "Don't doubt." Chris frowned, trying to understand the meaning behind the words. "The others…yourself…me. We did our best." He dropped his hand back down, the action using more energy than he had originally guessed.

And they had. The telegram wires had been cut. They were caught by surprise by over thirty men. The town had been thrown into chaos, but they were able to kill at least a dozen of them before JD was shot, then Buck. One after the other, their brothers died. Citizens fled and buildings were being burnt. Ezra felt his eyes grow heavy, but did his best to keep them open. The last thing he wanted to do was die on the man who was trying his hardest to save him. It actually was funny when you thought back to when they had first begun. Chris had saved him that day when he had given him a second chance. No doubt Ezra would've left town and continued his life as a gambler. Probably would've died sooner without no one to care that he was gone. Here, in this backwater of a town, he had found friends, brothers who die for each other, who would miss him. Whom he would miss.

"Mis…ta Larabee." Ezra said, more sluggish than the last time he spoke. He was feeling colder. His fingers and legs lost all feeling. Nathan would've said that he had lost too much blood and that him recovering from this would be no short of a miracle. He was pretty sure their team had finally run out of miracles and luck. "I fear… my time… is nearly up." He didn't want to make the man angry, but Chris looked ready to argue. It made Ezra think of all the times they did argue and all the times he would annoy Chris just for fun. "I'm afraid…Chris." His words silenced the would be argument and Chris stayed quiet to allow the man to speak. Ezra rarely addressed him by his first name, and when he did, it was usually important. "I don't want to die…I just…got used…to living."

Chris gripped the smaller man's shoulder, trying to give the dying man some strength in this scary time.

"This shouldn't have happened."

"Well...I was…due to meet my end…eventually."

"We've all been dancing around our fate for five years now." Chris said, his voice breaking. Ezra felt something wet drop on his face.

"Just… so we's clear… am I forgiven…for walking out…on you…"

"Standish, you've proven yourself to this team again and again."

"I just need…"

"You're forgiven, Ezra. Have been for five years."

"'pologies…I just needed…to hear it…from you." Ezra said, looking relieved as he gave a weak chuckle before it faded out.

"I'm sorry I never told you out loud." Chris said, but Ezra never heard him. The gambler's eyes were staring unblinking up at him, looking happy, but the light that had shown in them for years was gone. Chris closed the man's eyes and gave a silently prayer. Hot tears ran down his face. Though he wasn't the one to call on a higher power like Josiah, he was going to turn heaven upside down if he didn't see all of his men there. His sold he didn't care about, but each of them had worked hard to turn their lives around for the better.

When he finished his prayer, Chris heard the sound of a hammer on a colt being pulled back behind him. He didn't bother to turn around to see his killer. He didn't fight to live. After three years after his first family was killed, he found another one. Now that they were dead too, he didn't care. His eyes never left the gambler's smile and actually was able to form one himself before the trigger was pulled.


	2. Wake Up, Ethan

**A/N: This is now going to be a fun game of guess who. Please hang in there.**

The sound of the ringing phone was what had brought him back to the land of the living. For a moment, he was confused as to where he was until he remembered the screaming device on the nightstand and answered the call.

"This is Myers." He said, stifling a yawn and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it.

"Ethan, hey! I was calling to see if you remembered your appointment today." came his counselor's voice.

 _Appointment!_ "Yeah, uh yes I remember. It starts at noon correct?" Ethan turned slightly in bed to look at his clock that sat on the night stand. The clock read five minutes pass twelve. "Shit! I mean sorry. Yes, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"No need to rush. If you want, we can schedule you in at two. I can take my lunch break early."

Ethan slumped in bed, "Yes, thank you. Sorry again for not being there."

"It's okay." Came a laugh on the other end, "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Ethan ended the call and pushed himself out of bed. He shuffled to the bathroom, avoiding cardboard boxes that still needed to be unpacked. After a nice hot shower, he got dressed, and went over his appearance in the mirror before he was satisfied. He made a pot of coffee and sat down with a croissant and eggs for breakfast. After getting settled down in his new apartment, he had been planning on applying for a job at law firms. However, he hadn't gotten around to it because he had been feeling off since the day he got here. With staying up all hours of the night and sleeping in really late, it would be hard to keep a job if he couldn't wake up to be there on time. Then he started having strange dreams. The dreams were generally the same, sometimes he'd come in at a later part, or earlier scene. The end always had him waking up in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. That was when he decided to go see a counselor, hoping it was a quick fix so he could return to doing his thing. With the weeks he had been attending these scheduled meetings, he actually felt relaxed. The first two counselors he saw only aggravated him, but his new one, Dr. Richard Flint, was pretty understanding. That and he felt like the man treated him as if they knew if each for a long time. Ethan just chalked it up to the man's friendly personality, but it was more than that he was sure.

Ethan glanced at the clock on the microwave. 1:30. If he wanted to meet with the doctor on time, he should start leaving now. Traffic was going to start getting bad, and he didn't want to blow off the doctor a second time today. Leaving his apartment, he went down the elevator and walked towards the front rotating door. His eyes glanced over to the mailbox area and he couldn't help thinking about the mailman he had seen before. The guy for some reason looked, no he didn't look familiar, but he was familiar somehow. Shaking this feeling off, he walked outside and waited for his car to be brought around.

Making it into the building with five minutes to spare, Ethan sat down and switched the television channel until something caught his eye and he turned it back to a station hosting a live game of poker. His hand froze with the remote still in it while the other hand was distractedly moving as if he had one of the chips in his hand and was playing with it. The ghost coin was forgotten when the door opened and Dr. Flint stepped out with a huge smile on his face.

"Mr. Myers, I'm glad you can make it." He turned to look at the screen and then back at Ethan, "You play?"

"No, I detest gambling, and leave nothing to chance."

The other man's smile only broaden and he gestured for Ethan to follow him. Ethan turned off the television and set the remote back down before entering the back where the private counseling rooms were located.

Rick settled himself on a sofa while Ethan took the couch he usually occupied.

"So, you're still having trouble waking up on time?" asked Rick, but he didn't hold any judgement or ridicule in his tone. For this reason, Ethan liked him.

"Yes, I tried using alarms like you suggested, but I guess I turned them off and went back to sleep. And going to sleep earlier doesn't work, I still just lie in bed staring up at the ceiling."

"Do you think about anything during this time?"

"Besides how I just want to fall asleep?" Ethan sat back in his seat, "I don't know, probably about the dream I've been having. What it all means and why I keep having it."

"And it's still the same dream?"

Ethan nodded, "It varies where it will start, but it's the same one. I keep watching those people die."

"Do the faces remind you of someone you know in real life?"

"No, I mean a dark part of me was thinking that too, but these faces, while they feel familiar, I just don't think I've met them."

"Do you think it's possible that you've never met these people yet and that it is a warning?

"I mean it's possible I guess." Ethan shrugged. "But what crazy dream would dress them all as if they were cowboys from the old west?"

This information seemed to peak Rick's interest, "You didn't mention that before."

"I never really thought much about it, but each time it becomes more real. Like I'm there."

"Are you standing apart from them or are you one of them? Theses men?"

"I'm one of them. I talk to this one guy and I'm asking for forgiveness for some reason. Then after he does forgive me I die. Then I wake up."

Rick wondered about that part, but then asked, "Is there someone you are wanting forgiveness from?"

Ethan wanted to scoff but he schooled the instinct to do so and shook his head. "I'm normally not in one place long enough to be needing forgiveness from anyone."

"Do you know why that is? Why you're always on the move?"

"Just a feeling in the back of my head really."

"What does this feeling tell you?"

"Well before I moved here, it was telling me that I needed to keep moving. That the answers I need to questions are still out there."

"What questions?"

"That, I wasn't sure of until I started getting these dreams when I arrived. Before that, I was just searching for a place… a place I feel like I fit in I guess."

"Do you feel that here?"

"I feel like I'm getting closer, but now with these dreams, I'm left with more questions."

"When did you start feeling the need to start moving? Like you were running _to_ something?

Ethan felt himself grow tense for a second, he didn't understand why he had that reaction.

"I just do… habit I suppose. I felt this restlessness for about sixteen years now." He murmured the last part. Ethan wasn't sure why he had been feeling like this for so long time. It was all connected somehow. He wasn't sure what had drove him to come to Denver but he was here now.

Rick seemed to thinking about Ethan had said for a couple of minutes before changing topics, "What about what you told me last week? About the man in your building that looked familiar. The mailman?"

"I wouldn't go as to say he _looked_ familiar, just had a presence that was familiar. I don't recognize him from anything."

"Maybe he reminds you of a person from your childhood."

"Maybe." But Ethan doubted it.

"Have you tried to talk to him?"

"For what purpose? To say, 'pardon me but you seem familiar, what's your name?' I prefer to keep getting my mail."

"You don't have to say anything like that. Just talk to him about other things. See if any topics you talk about stir up a memory."

Ethan figured it wasn't too difficult of a request to try. That, and he was curious to find out why he felt like he knew the man.

"Now, how about we pull these out again." Rick said, changing the subject and placed a stack of cards on the table in front of Ethan.

Ethan picked them up easily and ran his hands over the sturdy paper before beginning to shuffle them. It was almost therapeutic in its own way. He wasn't sure how, but he was really good at card tricks. Like a late prodigy or something.

Rick watched in silence as Ethan pulled the ace of spades and then the ace of clubs out without trouble.

After about a couple of minutes of this hypnotizing routine he spoke up.

"Are you familiar with the term reincarnation, Ethan?"

"What, being born again? You think this is what all of this is about?" Ethan thought the idea preposterous.

"Your soul may have lived before and has only started to stir when you sensed someone who may have been around during your previous life. Your soul maybe pulling you to Denver for a reason."

"I find it hard for even you, Rick to believe in such things." Ethan chuckled.

"I find it better not to discount anything."

"So have you met a person who's been reincarnated. Oh wait, you probably can't talk about that because of client confidentiality."

Rick only smiled as his patient continued to degrade the reincarnation theory.

"So what do you think is the problem then? Since you are against my theory."

Ethan closed his mouth then, not knowing what to make of his symptoms.


	3. 911? Call Logan

**A/N: Thank you for your patience. Yes the first chapter is pretty sad, and that was my third draft of writing that scene. Had tears the entire time.**

 **So it's hopefully going to remain happy and funny from here on. Especially for the guess who part. Did you guess Ezra and Josiah in the second chapter? Here are two more of the boys in their new lives. Shame they don't recognize each other.**

Ethan left the office feeling more confused than when he had gone in. He drove down the streets, his mind busy trying to come up with an answer to his counselor's question.

 _If, and I mean if Rick is right and I'm some sort of reincarnation, then give me a sign._

The sound of a siren made him flinch and look into his rear view mirror. He cursed under his breath as he noticed that the person in cop car behind him was signaling for him to pull over. Ethan found a safe place to pull over to the side of the road. Putting his jaguar in park before turning it off. Ethan kept his hands on his steering wheel.

"This day just keeps getting better." He grumbled to himself. He tried to think of what he could've done wrong, and how he could talk himself out of getting a ticket. Of course the officer took his time getting out of his car and approached the driver's side slowly. The man didn't seem too happy which didn't bode well for trying to get out of getting a ticket.

"License, insurance and registration." Came an irritated voice.

Ethan went to his glove compartment and pulled out the necessary papers as well as getting his license from his wallet.

"Did I do something wrong, officer…" He looked down at the name tag, "Wayne?" Ethan asked, a little confused, but the officer must've taken it as him being a smartass.

"You blew through a stop sign and nearly caused a collision."

Ethan looked in his rearview mirror to see the said stop sign.

 _Damn I must've been out of it._

"Have you been drinking today?" came the officer's next question.

"Drinking? No!" Ethan handed over the papers and the glare in the man's eyes he received, he could've sworn looked familiar.

"Uh huh." The officer said as he walked back to his vehicle.

Ethan shook his head as he tried to figure out what was wrong with him. First his mailman, and now this pissed off cop. It was probably just a coincidence that he was feeling this way. The five minutes it took for the officer to come back felt like ten as Ethan tried to collect his thoughts.

"You passing through?" asked the officer as he stood next to the window again.

Ethan only guessed that because he had yet to change his Georgia license. That and his plate was dead a giveaway.

"Recently moved here. Haven't had the chance to get things changed around I'm afraid." He tried to play the 'new guy' card.

The officer didn't seem all that convinced, but handed Ethan back his papers and license.

"This is for not stopping at the stop sign and reckless endangerment." Officer Wayne handed him the ticket. The man was about to walk away when Ethan decided to face the nagging feeling head on with this guy.

"'cuse me Officer Wayne, but have you been to Georgia?"

The man frowned in confusion at the question. "No."

"Have I drove pass you before?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Pretty sure I would've remembered a jaguar."

Ethan knew he couldn't keep pressing because he probably would find himself in the back of the cop car.

"Sorry, you just have a familiar face or something. I promise to pay this when it is due." Ethan gave a two finger salute that just seemed to happen on instinct. The officer seemed confused by the action too but just gave a sharp nod before walking back to his vehicle. Ethan felt that he was good with faces, but for all his worth, he couldn't understand why the police officer seemed familiar. Rick's words popped into his head about reincarnation, but he just couldn't believe it was true. That it was happening to him of all people.

Pulling back out onto the road, Ethan decided to just forget about it for the moment and concentrate on driving. He had a few errands he wanted to run before heading back to his apartment.

Officer Logan Wayne sat behind the wheel of his police car trying to figure out why the man he had pulled over seemed familiar. The salute at the end confirmed that the man was someone he might know. He just couldn't figure from where. The man, Ethan Myers, asked if he had been to Georgia. Maybe he was just imagining things because he hadn't been to the south before.

 _Just some rich guy who was trying to throw you off and avoid getting a ticket._

When he made it back to the station he could feel his irritation return. The other officers were running around in mass chaos trying to follow orders bellowed out by the captain. Wayne walked over to his desk and sat down with a sigh. A minute later his friend came into the building with two things of coffee in hand. The man seemed to always appear out of nowhere. Their friendship, though only spanning two years, seemed like they knew each other their entire lives. Neither knew how to describe it, nor talked about what it meant, just leaving it alone and appreciating the friendship.

"Hey, Logan. Thought you might like some coffee to put you in a better mood." Said his friend as he sat down in the chair drawn up next to Wayne's desk.

"You make an awful habit of being here Joey. The captain is going to get pissed one of these times. My mood is just fine thank you." Logan growled as he took the offered coffee.

Joey just laughed at his friend.

"Ramirez!" shouted the captain from his office.

Joey didn't even flinch as he heard the big man storm over to him. He just lifted the extra cup of coffee up to the angry man.

"This doesn't change the fact that I don't want you loitering around here." Said the man, taking the offered cup.

"Should I take my coffee back then?" Joey sent the man a cocky grin.

The captain muttered something about Ramirez being lazy and disrupting police work before walking off to yell at a young officer.

"You sure know how to work a man." Logan said as he shook his head.

"What can I say, I have some kind of ability to make everyone like me." Joey gave a huge smile to his friend before pushing himself forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. "So, what's got you all in a clinched position today?"

"I'm not," Logan sighed, "I'm not uptight, just experiencing another one of those déjà vu moments again."

"Really? I mean I thought I did today, but it was just one of the girls I had been with before. We talked for about an hour."

"This was something a little different than that. I pulled a guy over today for rolling a stop sign. He seemed familiar, not necessarily his face, but his mannerisms."

"You think you pulled him over before?"

"No, more like I've seen someone before do the things he did, and it wasn't like a common thing either."

"What did he do?"

"He gave a salute to me, but with only two fingers."

Joey frowned in contemplation, "You know, not to sound like I'm making fun of you or something, but I feel like I've seen someone do that before too."

"Maybe it's the same guy." Logan suggested.

"Not unless your guy was in my dream." Logan rose an eyebrow, wondering if he wanted to hear the story, "Nothing weird, more like an outside of the body experience where I was with six guys and they seemed to be good friends. One of them anyway was always doing that salute, or a salute in general."

"You mean like a fellow officer?"

"No, more like western. Like John Wayne type of old west, but not really."

"So some cowboy was saluting at you?"

"He wasn't dressed like one. More brightly colored clothes."

Logan shook his head and went back to looking at his paperwork. "Well I don't think your imaginary fancy cowboy came out from your dreams and was driving an expensive car, rolling stop signs."

Joey looked like he had just gotten an epiphany, but decided to keep it to himself so his friend could get back to work.

Standing up, he got ready to go back to work at his diner, "See ya around, hoss."

Logan looked up from his work and turned to the retreating man, "What did you just call me?"

Joey, now realizing the strange moniker he had just given his friend also frowned, "Hoss." He repeated. "I don't know why, but it just kind of slipped out."

Logan wasn't sure what else to do but just nod before getting back to work.


	4. Joey's Diner

**A/N: So recap a little...**

 **Ezra meets with his therapist who is Josiah, Ezra then runs into Chris and gets a ticket, Chris goes to his office and talks to Buck.**

 **We've got four of the boys so far. Who's next? It might feel a little tricky to remember who is who, but I tried to keep the personalities and what they like the same.**

Joey got back to the diner that he owned and found his employees bustling around trying to take orders and deliver finished meals.

"Thank goodness you're back." Exclaimed the young teenage girl.

"No worries, I wasn't planning on being long. We got quite the rush coming in." Joey said, looking at all the line waiting to be seated.

 _Damn, I'm going to need to hire someone soon._

"Oh yeah, boss." called the teenager again, getting his attention, "You got some guy at the end of the counter looking for a job. I told him to wait for you there."

"Thanks Molly." Joey smiled before moving to help sit and get some of his customers orders. After everything was taken and sent to the back to be made, he walked over to the young teenage boy who sat straighter when he approached.

"I heard you were looking to apply for a job."

"Yes sir, my name is Winston Harris, I'm looking to start my first job, so unfortunately I don't have a resume for you to look at." The mention of lack of experience made the boy slump a little on the stool that he sat on.

"Well Winston, we all have to start somewhere, right?"

Winston gave a big smile and nodded, "Exactly! I mean yes sir. I'm really good at picking up things and I've been to your diner plenty of times so I know a bit of how things work."

"That is all I'm asking for; a person willing to learn. You don't have to call me sir. Joey is fine. How about I set you up with an application and you can fill it out."

Winston pulled a piece of paper into Joey's view, everything was already filled out.

"Molly was kind enough to give me one while I sat here."

Joey took the paper and looked over the information before nodding. "Do you have all the other documents? W-2? I'll also need a license or legal documentation and your social."

"Oh, right." Winston seemed to deflate a little. "Can I run home, get them and bring them back?"

"You don't have to worry. You can start tomorrow."

This, to Joey, didn't seem to be the answer the teen was looking for, but the boy nodded and walked out of the diner after shaking his hand.

Joey wondered why the boy was so eager to start working. After allowing himself to think about it for a minute, he drew himself out of his thoughts and got set to work.

The next day as soon as the diner opened, Joey found the boy waiting for him. The kid, as he had started calling him in his head. It suited him. Though half of his employees were teens working during their summer break. This was his youngest hire yet. Barely a few weeks over the hiring age.

Winston handed Joey the proper forms, which was his birth certificate and social.

Joey decided to set the boy on bust boy duty until he got adjusted enough to take on harder task. Remembering and writing down orders and table numbers would be a little complex to begin with. He would show him that the following week.

"Okay kid, remember to wipe down the tables with clean towels and make sure to dry them. Setup a new thing of silverware in front of each seat. It's simple and will make less work for the waitresses."

Winston nodded eagerly and was given an apron to wear to protect his clothes.

The day ran smoothly enough, with only the occasional apology being heard when the kid made a mistake. When the day was over for the boy, Joey treated him to a meal and sat down with him.

"So how are you holding up?"

"Good I guess. I'm sorry about breaking the plates." Winston stared at his hands nervously, not sure he deserved the food in front of him.

"No worries, it happens. Just make sure you don't make a habit out of it." Joey ruffled the boy's head of long hair.

He had noticed when he had first seen the boy, it was pretty long with the kid always jerking his head to get his long bangs out of his face. A baseball cap had been in his back pocket and was there now. It was pretty worn, the color fading.

Winston ate his food finally, allowing the nerves of his first day to subside. His boss, Joey was pretty cool and hadn't been upset with him screwing up a couple of times. Though he was called a kid, he soon learned that he was the youngest employee. Most kids his age still goofed off during the summer. He however was trying to raise money. Money that he was secretly planning on using to run away. It was a shame really, he liked the man. He was the first adult that didn't treat him horribly. It was like having a father figure, or his idea of a father. The man didn't look at him as if he was a puzzle to solve, but a normal kid.

When he was sent home, Winston began to think about the place he stayed at. He had been having episodes when he woke up screaming from night terrors and was getting physical. He was moved to a special home where they dealt with 'troubled' teens. It wasn't that he had an actual problem, it was just that he kept suffering from the same nightmare. Watching these people die. People who seemed to be really close. Dying horrible deaths. He wanted to go to counseling to get help, but another kid told him that if he went and told them about his dream then they would lock him up somewhere and he'd never get out again. Never being able to go back out and see the sun made his stomach do a flip. Getting on his bike, he pushed off towards the park to clear his head before making the inevitable trip to the house he stayed in. As far as they know, he was playing out in the park. He had been really good at breaking into things. That was how he was able to get his legal documents so he could apply at the diner. Keeping up the lie and making sure no one knew about the checks he'd be getting would be the problem later on.

For now, he would enjoy this piece of happiness.


	5. Support Your Local Mailman, Marcus

**A/N: So we got JD in the last chapter interacting with Buck. Sadly Molly is just an OC, not someone from the previous life.**

 **Next chapter we have...mail?**

Marcus wasn't one to complain much about his job, it was simple and he was outdoors most of the time. However, he was feeling like something was off about the world every day for the past month now. It was like he was supposed to be doing something other than deliver mail. Granted, probably most mailmen thought this. Stepping out of his cramped vehicle, he carried the stack of mail and his bag as he did his rounds. The warm wind blew through his short hair which felt nice as he wiped the sweat from his forehead on his sleeve. The neighborhood that was in his route was pretty nice, and he enjoyed looking at the changing scenery as flowers were planted and children began littering the front yards with their toys to the vexation of their parents. A teenager rode passed him on his bike towards a house that he remembered had several older kids. In his spare time, Marcus would give them a story or name. He had seen the boy the day before on his rounds. Where ever the boy was coming from, he seemed pretty excited. He would be called, Hot Wheels, because of how fast the kid was going.

Marcus cut through the yards delivering the mail before hoping back in his stuffy vehicle and moving onto the next destination. It was the last one of the day, an apartment complex that was nearby. It was a pretty nice place with air condition in the lobby where he had to dispense the mail in the proper spots. This was always his last shift because it could take some time. As he worked on placing the envelopes and packages where they needed to go, he noticed a tenant walking over to him. Marcus never really interacted with any of the people in building, always preferring to remain invisible. He wasn't authorized to just hand the mail to the people directly so the guy was just going to wind up hovering behind him.

He started to pick up the pace to just get out of the way.

"'cuse me." Said the man finally, addressing him.

"Sorry." Marcus said, stepping out of the way so the man could access which ever box belonged to him.

"That's not really—" the man cut himself off and went to a box and unlocked it to pull out the single envelope that Marcus had just put in there just a few seconds ago. There wasn't a name on the envelope, just a 'current resident' which probably was just scrapping mail. There wasn't a name on the PO box so Marcus wasn't sure who the person was, so he decided to refer to him as his PO box number, '6579'. Marcus did his best to work around the man and finish.

"'cuse me, I know this may seem like a strange question, and I know we don't know each other. I just," the man paused, obviously searching for words, "was wondering how it's like working the mail business."

Marcus rose his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn't expecting anything like that. "Fine I guess. I get to be outdoors which I like. It's quiet and I get time to myself. I'm not that good talking to people."

The man only nodded, "So you plan on staying in the mail business?"

Marcus gave a little chuckle, "Uh, maybe. I don't know. You trying to offer me a job or something?"

"Me? No, I'm supposed to be looking for one myself."

"What job are you looking at?"

"Law. I'm a lawyer."

"You represent the bad guys or the good guys?"

"I represent the ones who can afford me." The man said with confidence that showed in his smile.

"You're that good then?"

"I am in deed."

"So why are you looking for a job?" Marcus asked before turning back to the PO box, "You just moved here or something?" Then he remembered who he was talking to, "Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Marcus made to leave but the man just shrugged, "It's fine. I did just move here about a month ago. Left my old firm because I felt like I was being drawn here."

The guy, sensing he said more than he probably intended to share, gave a two finger salute which made the man again frown before taking his mail up to his apartment. Marcus didn't know what to make out of PO box guy 6579. Taking his now empty bag with him, he left the apartment complex and walked back to his vehicle. Today he felt like burgers, maybe he'd stop by Joey's diner after work.

While he waited for the stop light to give him the go ahead, he heard the faint sounds of a siren. About a minute later an ambulance raced by. Marcus watched the colors flash on the top of the vehicle before it disappeared out of sight. To his annoyance, the lights reset themselves and he had to wait longer before it was his turn to go.

"Gosh I hate ambulances sometimes." He muttered.


	6. I Need Resuscitation By Barton

**A/N: So we finally got to see Vin. Yay! Unfortunately the guys still can't figure it out. I wonder who's in the ambulance?**

Barton worked alongside his partner in the back of the ambulance. There had been an accident and one of the drivers was now being transported to the hospital after suffering a concussion and needing her neck be put in a brace. It was their job to keep the victim awake.

"You know, Mathews, you should really consider trying to become a doctor." Smiled his companion, Roger Douglas.

Barton shook his head, "No thanks, I don't think I can deal with that kind of pressure. Keeping a person alive long enough to get to the hospital is hard enough."

"True, but I can see you as a doctor. I don't see why you don't just finish up getting your official papers."

"I just don't think It's the right fit." Barton said with a tight smile. After losing his wife when suddenly had a heart attack, he couldn't bring himself to handle something like that again. He had thought he knew what to do, until the ambulance arrived, but she died two minutes before they pulled up. Being a first responder was all he could do. Be there for people like the ones who were late to helping his wife.

They arrived at the hospital where nurses and doctors set out to take the victim while Barton went to refill supplies and get some coffee to drink before getting their next call. Somehow, the chaos around him, made him feel at home. The rush of what he did kept him from thinking about the images from his dreams from resurfacing. People dying around him, and then going into a strange building and then suddenly he feels himself being ripped apart by an explosion. He'd jerk up in bed, covered in sweat, panting and checking to make sure all his limbs were there and then to make sure there were no guts spilling out. It felt so real, the heat, the pain. Barton drank his coffee in the lonely cafeteria before his pager went off. Apparently they had another one. Tossing the empty paper cup away, he jogged to get to the ambulance where his partner was waiting with the driver.

"Ready for another one?" grinned the older man.

"Someone has to be." Barton sighed as he hopped in and they closed the doors. The driver pulled out with sirens on.

Later on Barton went home to the mostly quiet neighborhood he lived in. The children were all inside now, but forgotten toys were still out in the front lawn. He was just pulling into his driveway when he saw a boy from a house across the street, run pretty quickly down to the end of the drive way and picked up his bike. He watched as the boy climbed on and took off in the direction of the park. Barton wasn't all that familiar with the people who owned the house across from his, but he did know they took in young teens with special problems. At seven at night, he knew it wasn't safe for the kid to be out by himself. It didn't matter that the neighborhood was pretty safe.

Taking one last look at his house, Barton put his care into reverse and went to go find the kid and return him home.

To his surprise he didn't have to go far before finding him, or at least the bike. Barton parked his car and left the lights on to see. The wheels of the bike were still spinning but the teen must've rolled a ways before coming to a stop.

"Is anyone out here? Are you hurt?"

"Help." Came a pained reply. Barton jogged over and found the teenager, who now looked a whole lot younger than he originally thought, holding his ankle.

"Hey, my name's Barton Mathews." He said, giving his name so the boy wouldn't get nervous, "Where does it hurt?"

"My ankle."

Barton gently felt the injured area.

"I think you may have rolled it." The kid slumped at the prognosis. "Shall I take you and your bike home?" when the boy rose a suspicious eyebrow Barton explained, "I live across the street from the house you're staying at I'm guessing. I saw you run out pretty quick. It was dark so I thought I better check to make sure you didn't hurt yourself."

"Sure." The boy said eventually.

Barton helped him up and the two made it back to his car and then he went to secure the bicycle so he could take it back too. The kid introduced himself as Winston.

"So what's got you running like your life depended on it out of the house?"

"The grownups. They think that they have me all figured out. That I'm going to be a danger to myself, or to others."

"Are you?"

"No. They just freak out because I have these dreams. Night terrors really. I start swinging in my sleep and they start saying I'm crazy, but I ain't." Winston, realizing he probably said too much, closed his mouth.

"Have you spoken to anyone about this?"

"Not really. Some other kids say that if you say anything then you'll get sent somewhere where you'll never get to leave ever again. But I swear I'm not crazy. So don't tell no one."

"I promise, but I don't believe that you shouldn't tell anyone. A therapist can help you understand what's going on. Possibly explain your dreams so you can understand them and they won't scare you anymore." Winston thought about it. "How about we stop really quick at my place to get you patched up before I send you home?"

"Anything to stall going back." Winston grinned.

Barton worked on wrapping the ankle of the sixteen-year-old while the kid talked. It all felt familiar to him. Not that he hadn't done this before, but for some reason, this was bringing a sense of déjà vu.

"So how do you know all this stuff? Wrapping ankles and telling if ankles are broken or sprained."

"I'm a first responder. I'm the guy who works in the back of ambulances."

"Cool! Is it fun riding in the back?"

"Most people are in pain when they're back there with us, that or struggling to stay alive. I've grown used to it." He gave the boy a grin, "It is fun to run through red lights though."

Winston gave a huge grin before it fell, "Will I be able to work on my ankle tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, if that's what you're asking. You have a job? At your age."

"Saving up for something. I work at Joey's Diner."

"Yeah I know the place. I meet a friend there from time to time for a game of poker at night."

"Poker?"

"It's mostly time for us to hang out, but we get a few guys who come and we all just chat. Nothing really serious."

"Cool. Are you playing tonight?"

"No, during the weekend."

"Do you think Joey would let me stay and watch?"

"I'm pretty sure he'd send you home." Barton laughed.

"But you'd be there and we live in the same neighborhood, so it's not like I'm going home alone."

The older man rose an eyebrow.

"We'll see what he says. As long as it isn't pass curfews."

Barton helped Winston back across the street and the young teen said good night before going in. He couldn't help but know that that boy was probably go to work even on an injured ankle. He just seemed stubborn like that. Shaking his head, he went back to his own home, completely forgetting about his fear of falling asleep.


	7. How's Your Poker Face?

**A/N: You guys are hilarious with these comments. Love them so much**

Winston hobbled into the diner, keeping his eyes out for Joey. He didn't want the man to see him limping in. The last thing he wanted was to be sent home. Currently, the owner was standing across from an older guy who was eating breakfast. Making it to the back, Winston punched his time card. Turning around, he almost ran into Joey's chest.

"I know what it looks like but—"

"Dang right I know what it looks like. It looks like you're limping. Did you think I didn't see you crawl in here a second ago?" Joey said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Winston wanted to roll his eyes at the man's exaggeration, "I wasn't limping. I just fell off my bike last night when I was out on a ride. I promise I can still work. Please don't make me leave."

"I should make you walk right back out the door." Joey sighed, "Hell, I'm going to be getting an angry parent calling in the next few hours."

"I promise you won't." Winston said hurriedly. He had been sure that the people who ran the house he stayed at wouldn't know where he was during the day. As far as they knew, he was spending time hangout at the library.

"Fine, but you'll be working in the back. I'll have Jimmy take your place. Bring a stool around and pop a squat at the sink. Those dishes better be shining today."

"Yes sir." Winston grinned and went to go get a stool.

Joey shook his head and went back out front to where Rick was sipping his coffee now.

"Got a new one since I've been here last?"

"Yep, he's my youngest hire so far. He's committed though. I'll give him that."

"Did he say how he hurt himself?"

"He said he fell off his bike." Joey shook his head, "Not sure I believe it, but I don't know what else to do."

"You worried about him?" Rick asked, studying the man.

"I mean I worry about all these kids that work for me. I've seen some come in here. Have an abusive parent. Sometimes they just need a place to escape to during the day."

"Do you know if something like that maybe be going on?"

"He doesn't really talk about his home life. Chatter box about everything else though. He gets along with everyone and is very energetic." Joey shrugged.

"Well, if he needs someone to talk to…"

"I'm sure I'd have to go through parents to have him talk to you." Joey chuckled.

"I was going to say you could listen to him. You're good at that." Rick smiled and then got up and paid for his food before walking out.

Joey sighed and cleared the area and wiped it down. Bringing the dirty dishes in the back, he decided he should check on the kid.

"Doing alright back here, kid?"

"Yep." Winston looked up from cleaning a utensil. "Sorry for causing you trouble."

"No need to apologize."

"I kind of cut your conversation short with your friend."

"Rick? Oh, he's a regular. Comes in during the morning and hangouts weekend nights. He had to get to work, so it was no big deal."

Winston decided to brave the topic, "Weekend nights you hold poker games?"

"Now how would you know a thing about that?"

"A neighbor across the street comes to your games. Mr. Mathews."

"Barton?" Joey smiled, "Yeah, a few men come out to hang and I keep it open for them. Bunch of strays the lot of them."

"Who usually comes besides Mr. Mathews?"

"My regulars mostly. My friend, he's a cop. Bound to come in here for coffee soon. Rick, the guy you just saw, he's a therapist. A guy who's a mailman. Doesn't play most of the time, but still hangs out."

"Do you think I could stay behind one day to watch?" at Joey's raised eyebrow, Winston continued, "I promise I'd just be watching. I can ask Mr. Mathews for a ride back if it's a problem of safety after dark."

"And why the sudden interest to hang out with some old people?"

Winston wondered if he should lie or not, but figured he could trust Joey, "I don't like being at the place I live. Even if it's for a couple of hours out of the house, I'd like that."

Joey ruffled the teens unruly head of hair.

"If you can get Barton to agree to drive you, you can come."

Winston gave an eager nod and went back to work with double the energy.

Joey returned to the front where an angry cop walked in and sat down at the front bar area.

"Let me guess, double? No, it's triple today."

"As soon as possible. Have to go on patrol in a bit."

"If you hate it so much, get promoted faster." Joey chuckled as he began working on making his friend's coffee.

Logan sent the taller man a glare before running his hands through his hair and then a pair of eyes caught his attention and he stared at the young teen until the kid lost his nerve and went back to what he was doing. Joey saw the intense gaze directed to the back and snapped his fingers in front of Logan's face to make him stop.

"Hey, don't be scaring the kid. He's already had it rough with falling off his bike."

"That why he's doing dishes?"

"Refuses to go home, but I figure he doesn't want to be there. Take your coffee and your glare with you. I don't need you scaring my customers or employees."

Logan took a generous sip of his coffee and handed his friend the money.

"Unless they committed a crime or something. This is all they're going to get." He rose the coffee in a way of saying thanks before he walked out and got back into his police car.

Dispatcher came on and he answered it. Apparently trouble was starting early today. An accident happened on his route. Confirming it with dispatcher. Chris turned his car on and set off to where the accident happened.


	8. I Recall That Name

Logan arrived at the scene and found two cars more-or-less over at the side of the road. One car was a 2009 Chevy while the other…

 _Hell, like I'd forget a jaguar with a Georgia license plate._

The man belonging to the expensive vehicle was leaning against the hood of his car with his arms crossed. When he noticed Logan, he stood up and looked a little surprised if not horrified to see that he'd be handling this accident report.

"It seems you got your wish in seeing me again, Mr… Myers." Logan said with a slight smile.

"I'm certain that it is never a good thing when an officer remembers your name and car." Ethan said, sticking his hands into his pockets and looking to the driver of the other car with annoyance.

Logan shook his head, "No it is not. I'll take your statements and you can sort it out with insurance on your own time. Tow will be along to take away your vehicles." He looked at the back right of the jaguar which had the bumper hanging off and a rim missing. The axil was probably messed up too. The other car had damage to the front left of it, but was also not drivable.

"It's simple. This idiot of a man, who has no business driving, hit me when turning right onto the main street. I don't know if he thought my car was a part of the road or not, but now I'm going to miss my interview because of his appalling driving skills." Ethan said, growing angrier by the minute. Logan put his hand on the shorter man's shoulder to calm him down. The other driver stepped up, trying to play the victim.

"He was the one who came speeding out of nowhere. Probably driving over the speed limit. My kids could've gotten killed because of your speeding."

Ethan made to go after the man, but Logan put himself in the man's way.

"Where the hell did you learn how to drive? You don't turn into the farthest lane! I was driving the speed limit and you decided this was a game of bumper cars."

"Mr. Myers. I suggest you calm yourself." Logan reiterated.

Ethan turned away and took a deep breath.

Logan turned to the other man, "Are any of your passengers hurt?"

"I'm sure they have concussions." The man said, obviously not sure, but trying to act like he was the innocent. Logan looked over to see two older teenagers on their phones playing video games or texting. Neither seemed to be aware of their surroundings or cared that much.

"Yeah, I'd say they're pretty shaken up. First responders are on their way." Logan walked away from the stupid man to the annoyed jaguar owner.

"Do you have someone to call to pick you up? You could get a ride with the tow people."

"I'm sure you recall from our first encounter that I've only recently moved here. Who would I know?" Ethan looked at his phone, "And now I only have fifteen minutes till my interview."

"Where's it at?" Logan said, checking his own watch to see how far tow and first responders were out.

"The law firm five blocks from here."

Logan heard the faint sounds of the ambulance, and watched as it appeared and pulled over near the totaled cars. He saw the familiar face of Barton hop out and smiled before it disappeared and walked over to the man.

"Barton."

"Logan." The other man nodded.

"Can you take this idiot and his kids in the ambulance _. Apparently_ the kids are really shaken up and have concussions. I'm going to take the other guy to an interview he needs to get to."

Barton grinned and looked at his new riding companions. _Yep, he looks like the average idiot alright._

"Sure thing. Want me to wait until you slap him with reckless driving."

"For him, I'll give him more than just that. I'll need to hurry though."

After getting an earful from the instigator of the car accident and calling in another cop to come in and see to everything else getting taken care of, Logan walked back to Ethan.

"You're riding with me. That is, if you still want to get to your interview."

Ethan nodded and followed the man to his cop car. He had to sit in the back because of all the equipment, but he was just grateful he was going to make his meeting. They drove in silence which Ethan was fine with, except he was confused.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Helping me get to my interview, and not handing me a bouquet of tickets too."

"You want tickets? I thought two tickets earlier this week would've been enough. Didn't know you liked those kinds of things."

"That's not—it's just that last time we met, you seemed ready to do a whole drunk driver's test and haul me in."

Logan chuckled, "Tempting with your smartass comments, but…I felt like second time around, things should be treated as a fresh start."

"Second chances and all." Logan looked in his rearview mirror and met the other man's eyes. The smile was almost familiar, but somehow he couldn't tell from where.

"Yeah, something like that."

Logan dropped the man off at the law firm and went to return to his accident scene. No doubt the loading of the cars would take time.

The tow truck was in the process of loading the two cars and Logan sat back and watched. He briefly talked to the other cops before they left. As he sat in the driver's seat, he stared at the name on the side of the truck. For some reason it was bothering him. Like an itch he couldn't get to. Eventually he stepped out of his car and approached the young man who was working the controls on the side of the truck.

"Hey, I can't help but notice the name of your business."

The young man looked at the name before smiling back at the intimidating cop. He was a great deal taller than him, but was probably five if not more years younger.

"Yosemite Tow? It was the name of our great ancestor. Back when he was young, he used to own a livery with his brother, Tiny. Boarded horses for people. My grandpa thought it'd be cool to name it after him. In fact, I think the place they had their livery and the town it was in, is about a couple hour's drive from here."

Logan nodded before walking away and wait back in his car.

 _Hell if that name didn't sound familiar._


	9. The Corner Table

Ethan wasn't sure about the call he had gotten from his therapist, Rick earlier that day. The man had invited him to something he said would be both therapeutic and for him to get a chance to eat good food and be in good company. From the little diner he was standing outside of, he wasn't sure he got the correct address. There were a few people inside, but the place looked closed, no, it said it was closed from the sign. Deciding, he should at least try knocking, he could explain to the other man that he had stopped by.

Joey opened the door and found a man dressed in a nice suit. He hadn't seen the man before but he offered him a smile.

"Can I help you?"

"I was told by Dr. Flint to stop by, but I fear I have the wrong address."

"Rick? Come in then." He offered the man a hand, "Name's Joey, this is my place." Turning to the other two in the room, he introduced them, "This is Barton Mathews and Winston Harris. Winston is one of my employees."

"Ethan Myers." Ethan said, shaking the offered hand and nodding to the others.

"We're waiting for the others to start the poker game, but I can cook you up something while we wait. What would you like?" asked Joey, walking to the back to check on the food he was already working on.

Ethan looked at the menu and selected a double bacon cheese burger and fries. He sat down across from Barton. They were set up in the corner table. With now seven chairs pulled up to it. The part of the conversation he had heard made him alert.

"Did you say a man who had two teenagers and pretended they had concussions?"

"Yeah."

"That was the man who totaled my car earlier this week."

Barton rose his eyebrows in surprise, "You were the guy with the jaguar?"

Ethan nodded, remembering his poor car which was still in the shop.

"You own a jag?" Winston said in wonder.

"Indeed. One of the few things that I take wherever I go when I move around. I know it's mostly women who name their cars, but I've given her a name after having her over the years."

"What's her name?"

"Chaucer." Ethan grinned.

"Chaucer? I would've thought Jazzy or Vicky." Winston frowned in confusion, but for some reason the strange name struck an old memory he couldn't quite recall.

"The name just came to me one day."

The door opened and Rick came in and was followed by Logan. When Logan and Ethan saw each other there was a long pause before either said anything. Rick noticed this.

"I invited Ethan to join us. He's a friend."

"A friend he couldn't call when he car was wrecked?" Logan frowned before he understood 'friend' was the man's way of hiding the fact that Ethan maybe one of his clients.

Marcus was the last to arrive and he froze too at seeing Ethan.

"Now how do you two know each other?" asked Barton.

"He's my mailman."

"Yours too?" Barton rose an eyebrow before looking at Marcus, "How wide is your route?"

"Wide enough. So what's going on?" Marcus said and grinned at Joey when his food was already ready for him.

"Ethan is a friend of Rick's." Logan supplied.

The rest of the food was brought out and everyone began eating now that everyone was there.

Joey then remembered that not everyone knew the kid yet. He put an arm around Winston's shoulder, "Hey man," he said to Logan who automatically looked up, "I forgot to introduce you to the kid. Kid, this here is my old friend Chris." The name leaving his lips without him even thinking about it.

There was a long pause where no one said anything but just looked at Logan. The officer frowned, trying to place the name. Chris. Yes, the name was familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him figure why. Then a sudden migraine hit him and he groaned in pain. The rest of the group grunted as well, feeling the pain too. When the worse of it passed he heard a hesitant voice.

"Larabee?"

He looked up at the mailman, looking into the man's eyes. Eyes that now looked familiar. It was like he was seeing the man for the first time. "Tanner?"

Everyone looked at the two and suddenly they started to remember each other's names and their own. Ethan felt like a hole had been filled as Logan, no Chris said his name. Ezra. It sounded like home.

Nathan, Barton, was clapping Josiah, Rick, on the back as they hugged it out.

JD, Winston, started to shake as he began to cry from joy. Buck, Joey, pulled the young teen into a hug.

"Aw, the kid is all emotional. Must be going through puberty again. Must suck something awful." Buck said, ruefully.

"Shut up, as far as your life goes, you lived it only once. Your second time was as a diner owner. I'm living mine as myself again." JD complained as he wiped away his tears.

The other men weren't crying like their youngest member, but they were pretty close.

"So you're a mailman?" Ezra smirked, looking Vin over, "And your hair is short."

Vin ran a hand through his short hair and grinned, "Well you finally got to see what it looks like when it's short."

"How did this happen?" Nathan asked the question that everyone was avoiding with being happy with their reunion.

"What happened is my question." Vin then frowned. "Those nightmares I've been happening weren't just nightmares were they?"

"Hell, I thought I was having some mental break down and those adults were ready to send me to an institution." JD shuddered.

"We died." Ezra said, looking to Chris. "You were the last one alive."

"I saw you all die around me. I was upset. It was my fault you all died. If I had anticipated—"

"Chris, no." Vin stopped him.

"It wasn't your fault." Josiah added.

"We did the best we could do." Nathan sighed.

"But if I—"

"Mr. Larabee, it's over. There's no use beating yourself up over the past. We can't…we can't go back." Ezra said, looking down at the table.

The years finally caught up to the others.

"Everyone we knew…" JD murmured, "Casey …"

"Rain…" Nathan said, wiping his hands over his face.

"Nettie…" Vin sighed.

"Inez…Mary and Billy." Buck said, "They're all dead."

JD began crying again, cursing stupid puberty as he wiped frustrated tears away. Buck did his best to comfort him, but he was having a hard time not crying himself. Nathan had turned away to hide his tears. Ezra was keeping up his best poker face ever, trying not to cry at the thought that his mother was dead.

"Maybe it's not just us?" Vin said, trying to be hopeful. "Maybe whatever happened to us has happened to some of the others.

Chris stayed silent, not wanting to speak.

Josiah finally turned to look at the man.

"Do you know what this is all about? You were the last one alive"

"Only by a minute. I was shot in the back of the head shortly after Ezra took his last breath. Damn fool was laughing at the end." The light humor rose the group's spirits a little.

"When we met for therapy, you said something about reincarnation." Ezra said, remembering.

"Hell, this is a whole new thing to me, Ezra. I don't know a case where this was legit."

Vin chuckled which made the others turn ton him with questioning looks.

"In our pass lives, we wouldn't have known what that word meant."

"What word?"

"Legit."

"Oh yeah, how's your reading and writing now?" Ezra asked.

"Fine until a month ago. After that I was having trouble reading the names on the mail." Vin grumbled.

"Dude, the words now are so sexual. There are 174 ways to say penis." JD grinned.

Ezra looked disgusted while Buck smacked him upside the head.

"Why the hell would you be looking stuff like that up?"

"I'm a teenage boy." JD said as if that was a good excuse.

"All I remember," Chris said, gaining everyone's attention, "Was that I prayed, and basically demanded that you all be in heaven. After everything. I thought you all deserved a better after life."

"What, were we kicked out of heaven or something?" Vin asked with a bit of sarcasm.

"Maybe we're ghost. Thinking we're alive." JD offered.

"You've been watching too much TV." Nathan shook his head.

"Another thing I like about this place."

"So for now, what do we do?" asked Buck.

"Well I'm still down for poker." Ezra grinned.

"We can discuss this tomorrow." Chris nodded.

The seven played a few rounds of poker, talking about their lives as 'modern' men.

"So does this mean I won't have any more of those nightmares?" asked JD.

The others, who had been experiencing them too, were wondering the same thing.

How deep did this phenomenon go?

 **A/N: So the next chapter is going to be the last one. There will be two endings. A comedy (happier ending) or tragedy (sad ending where you'll probably hate me) You choose ONE. I mean if you can read the happy one and then read a sad one then by all means, or you can read sad to happy I guess. Up to you. I was having a hard time deciding what type of ending and my professor told me (when I asked his advice) it was up to me. So hopefully you'll like the ending, which ever you choose.**


	10. Slice of Tragedy

**A/N: WARNING! THIS IS THE TRAGEDY ENDING. DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT THE COMEDY ENDING, SKIP TO THE NEXT CHAPTER FOR THE HAPPIER VERSION OF THIS TALE.**

Reunited, the seven exchanged phone numbers and promised to get together the next weekend. During the week, they would see each other sometimes at Buck's or Joey's Diner. It was hard to go back to calling them by their new names. JD and Vin had the hardest problem. JD slipping up when asking Buck on how he was supposed to do something.

"You know," JD said while sitting on break with Buck, "it's kind of weird working for you when we used to work together fighting bad guys."

Buck looked around cautiously, making sure none of his customers heard them.

"Well right now you're Winston, a teenager who is working for Joey, so you're just going to have to deal." Buck said in a low voice.

The door jingled as Chris stepped into the diner, still wearing his police uniform and a frown that seemed to be getting worse each day.

"Problem man?" asked Buck with a smile.

"I work with idiots." Chris murmured and sat down beside JD. Buck went around and made his friend some much needed coffee.

"What happened this time?" asked JD.

"There was a robbery earlier this week. It took the detective whose case it was four days to figure out who it was and then butchered the arrest. Got some of his men injured and shot. Luckily no one was killed."

"Why weren't you apart of the investigation? You're probably the one with the most experience."

"That was my past life. This one, I'm two years from the academy. Stuck on patrol duty and catching speeders until I can prove myself." Chris growled.

"How are you supposed to do that if you're stuck writing tickets?" asked Buck, handing a steaming cup of coffee to the other man.

"That's exactly what I told the captain. Got extra hours for it."

"Damn."

"Well, it's almost the weekend. We can unwind with the rest and see how their weeks are going." JD said, trying to sound optimistic.

"Are the others doing okay?"

"Ezra is having his usual luck with trying to fit in with others. Mouth probably getting him into a lot of trouble, but he's in the right area where he can use his persuasive tongue. Should've been a lawyer back then." Buck grinned.

"What about Vin?"

"Haven't seen him or Nathan."

Chris nodded and got back up. He placed the money on the table before taking off with his coffee.

"You think this whole knowing who we are is actually worse." JD murmured.

Buck watched from the window as his old friend got in his police car and drove off.

Vin was in need of space. Though he had a lot of that during his work, he still had the driving need to go out into the woods and just clear his head. He now began to notice how much of nature was replaced by ugly black top and houses. Missing his horse Peso, he actually walked most of his route just to be outside more. The mail vehicle felt even more suffocating than it usually did. All that was keeping him from leaving town now was that he was waiting for the weekend to spend time with his friends. The men he never thought he would see again.

Josiah sat in his work space looking out over the city. He was trying to find the answer to their strange reincarnation. Subtly asking his coworkers didn't get him far, and the internet never raised any serious case where this had happened before. Everyday he'd spend an hour praying, hoping for some kind of sign or answer.

"Way to be absent." He mumbled.

A call came that one of his clients was in the lobby. Josiah sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He still had work to do despite what was going on. Putting on a smile, he walked out into the lobby where a woman was waiting for him.

Nathan was sitting in the back of the ambulance cursing himself for seeming to forget everything he knew about the equipment he'd been working with for years. His partner was confused why he kept on hesitating.

"Maybe I'm not supposed to be doing this." Nathan sighed.

"What do you mean? What do you think you're supposed to be doing?"

"I'm not sure. Everything just feels off."

"Maybe you just need time off."

"Maybe." Nathan murmured, "But I've already used up more time then I should be allowed."

The other man frowned in confusion, not sure what to make of his coworker.

Ezra was tired of reading the stack of papers he was going through. Though he hated menial labor, this was a whole new level of torture. Most of his new associates were decent, while others would stab you in the back just to get the next promotion. It kind of made Ezra laugh.

 _Larabee would definitely hate this job._

The laugh died and he tapped his fingers on his desk absently. Without the others, without JD and Buck goofing off. Vin there to talk to. Chris to annoy. Nathan to escape his medical ministrations. Josiah's wisdom. It was all dull.

 _Hell, I only just got the job and I hate it._

Looking up, he saw one of his associates coming in with a binder full of papers to go over.

"Someone shoot me." He muttered and looked to the clock to see how many more hours he had left. Four hours. Sighing, he went back to what he was reading.

When the weekend came, the seven went to the address Chris had sent them. It was about three hours outside of Denver and he told them to bring camping supplies.

The group arrived at a field that was mostly weeds. A barn looking structure stood in the distance, run down and sad.

Buck frowned and spun in a circle to take it all in. "So why did you choose this place to meet up?"

Chris pointed to the barn, "Nathan, do you recognize it?"

Nathan squinted, trying to think if he did. Then his eyes went wide, "The livery?"

The others stared at the old building in shock.

"By chance I met Yosemite's kin. I asked them where this was at. We're standing where Four Corners used to be."

One by one, the group began to call out places that used to stand near the livery. The Clarion, Potter's general store. The Saloon. The boarding house.

"Hell," Buck wiped a stray tear, "never knew how much this would hit me when I saw it.

"The people we knew then." JD said softly, "their children have died and possibly some of their grandchildren."

"We don't even know what happened that day." Vin murmured, "After we died."

"What happened to the rest of the town?" Nathan said, thinking about Rain.

"From what Yosemite told his kin and they've been telling down the line, the peacekeepers were killed and they burned down the town. Anyone who was still in town was killed, but they let the citizens go."

"So they just wanted to kill us? Bastards!" Buck growled out and picked up a rock just to throw it into the woods.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this torturous trip down memory lane," Ezra interrupted, "but have we found out how we survived, or rather came back?"

"I wasn't able to find any real cases about this happening before. None of my colleagues had heard of this before." Josiah sighed.

"So what do we do then? Go through life again? If we die, will we be reincarnated again?" JD asked.

This rest of the seven shuddered at the thought.

"Lost in time." Vin murmured.

"I never should've prayed." Chris said under his breath.

Vin looked to his friend in confusion, "Why would you praying have anything to do with us being reborn?"

"First prayer bad luck." Chris snorted.

Josiah then turned to Chris, "That was the first time you prayed?"

"Had no reason to talk to God after he took my wife and son." Chris shrugged.

"You think Mr. Larabee's prayer is the reason we're stuck on Earth?" Ezra asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's possible that it holds some significance."

Chris began to feel guilty for having the others go through this new version of hell. The pain of realizing all their loved ones were dead and gone while they were still alive.

"If we could reverse the prayer, would you all want to go back? We'd probably be dead." Chris said, looking to each of his men.

They looked at one another, probably coming to terms through eye contact alone.

Closing his eyes, Chris prayed this would work. He felt Vin's hand on his shoulder and then Buck's on his other. JD had his on Buck's while Josiah was on his other side. Ezra was holding onto Vin while Nathan held onto him. As one, they sent up their request.

Nathan and Josiah gasped as they opened their eyes. They were lying under a pile of rubble. Clouds of smoke all around them. It was only for a minute, before their hearts stopped beating. Vin opened his eyes and groaned, he could feel his lungs filling with his blood as he struggled to breathe. He looked around and gave a smile. He was back. His sawed off rifle slipped from his grasp as he slumped on the edge of the building. JD woke up and was smiling up at Buck. He was only able to manage mouthing the words, 'we're home' before passing. Buck smiling back at his young brother and then felt a bullet rip right through him. He slumped down across the young sheriff. Ezra watched as his friends took their last breaths. He struggled to keep himself from dying, knowing that Chris was coming back for him. When the blond arrived, Ezra grabbed his wrist to stop him from moving him.

"It's okay. No more. You've…already done…so much…for me."

Chris looked ready to protest, but only nodded. Instead of getting to safety, he sat down next to Ezra. He talked to the man until he passed away. When the man came to kill Chris, Larabee only looked him in the eye.

"Better to just die."


	11. Slice of Comedy

**A/N: WARNING, THIS IS THE COMEDY ENDING. IF YOU WANT TRAGEDY IT'S THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER.**

 **If you like reading both then go for it. Just know that the beginning is similar up until they make the decision of what to do... Ending is epic.**

Reunited, the seven exchanged phone numbers and promised to get together the next weekend. During the week, they would see each other sometimes at Buck's or Joey's Diner. It was hard to go back to calling them by their new names. JD and Vin had the hardest problem. JD slipping up when asking Buck on how he was supposed to do something.

"You know," JD said while sitting on break with Buck, "it's kind of weird working for you when we used to work together fighting bad guys."

Buck looked around cautiously, making sure none of his customers heard them.

"Well right now you're Winston, a teenager who is working for Joey, so you're just going to have to deal." Buck said in a low voice.

The door jingled as Chris stepped into the diner, still wearing his police uniform and a frown that seemed to be getting worse each day.

"Problem man?" asked Buck with a smile.

"I work with idiots." Chris murmured and sat down beside JD. Buck went around and made his friend some much needed coffee.

"What happened this time?" asked JD.

"There was a robbery earlier this week. It took the detective whose case it was four days to figure out who it was and then butchered the arrest. Got some of his men injured and shot. Luckily no one was killed."

"Why weren't you apart of the investigation? You're probably the one with the most experience."

"That was my past life. This one, I'm two years from the academy. Stuck on patrol duty and catching speeders until I can prove myself." Chris growled.

"How are you supposed to do that if you're stuck writing tickets?" asked Buck, handing a steaming cup of coffee to the other man.

"That's exactly what I told the captain. Got extra hours for it."

"Damn."

"Well, it's almost the weekend. We can unwind with the rest and see how their weeks are going." JD said, trying to sound optimistic.

"Are the others doing okay?"

"Ezra is having his usual luck with trying to fit in with others. Mouth probably getting him into a lot of trouble, but he's in the right area where he can use his persuasive tongue. Should've been a lawyer back then." Buck grinned.

"What about Vin?"

"Haven't seen him or Nathan."

Chris nodded and got back up. He placed the money on the table before taking off with his coffee.

"You think this whole knowing who we are is actually worse." JD murmured.

Buck watched from the window as his old friend got in his police car and drove off.

Vin was in need of space. Though he had a lot of that during his work, he still had the driving need to go out into the woods and just clear his head. He now began to notice how much of nature was replaced by ugly black top and houses. Missing his horse Peso, he actually walked most of his route just to be outside more. The mail vehicle felt even more suffocating than it usually did. All that was keeping him from leaving town now was that he was waiting for the weekend to spend time with his friends. The men he never thought he would see again.

Josiah sat in his work space looking out over the city. He was trying to find the answer to their strange reincarnation. Subtly asking his coworkers didn't get him far, and the internet never raised any serious case where this had happened before. Everyday he'd spend an hour praying, hoping for some kind of sign or answer.

"Way to be absent." He mumbled.

A call came that one of his clients was in the lobby. Josiah sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He still had work to do despite what was going on. Putting on a smile, he walked out into the lobby where a woman was waiting for him.

Nathan was sitting in the back of the ambulance cursing himself for seeming to forget everything he knew about the equipment he'd been working with for years. His partner was confused why he kept on hesitating.

"Maybe I'm not supposed to be doing this." Nathan sighed.

"What do you mean? What do you think you're supposed to be doing?"

"I'm not sure. Everything just feels off."

"Maybe you just need time off."

"Maybe." Nathan murmured, "But I've already used up more time then I should be allowed."

The other man frowned in confusion, not sure what to make of his coworker.

Ezra was tired of reading the stack of papers he was going through. Though he hated menial labor, this was a whole new level of torture. Most of his new associates were decent, while others would stab you in the back just to get the next promotion. It kind of made Ezra laugh.

 _Larabee would definitely hate this job._

The laugh died and he tapped his fingers on his desk absently. Without the others, without JD and Buck goofing off. Vin there to talk to. Chris to annoy. Nathan to escape his medical ministrations. Josiah's wisdom. It was all dull.

 _Hell, I only just got the job and I hate it._

Looking up, he saw one of his associates coming in with a binder full of papers to go over.

"Someone shoot me." He muttered and looked to the clock to see how many more hours he had left. Four hours. Sighing, he went back to what he was reading.

When the weekend came, the seven went to the address Chris had sent them. It was about three hours outside of Denver and he told them to bring camping supplies.

The group arrived at a field that was mostly weeds. A barn looking structure stood in the distance, run down and sad.

Buck frowned and spun in a circle to take it all in. "So why did you choose this place to meet up?"

Chris pointed to the barn, "Nathan, do you recognize it?"

Nathan squinted, trying to think if he did. Then his eyes went wide, "The livery?"

The others stared at the old building in shock.

"By chance I met Yosemite's kin. I asked them where this was at. We're standing where Four Corners used to be."

One by one, the group began to call out places that used to stand near the livery. The Clarion, Potter's general store. The Saloon. The boarding house.

"Hell," Buck wiped a stray tear, "never knew how much this would hit me when I saw it.

"The people we knew then." JD said softly, "their children have died and possibly some of their grandchildren."

"We don't even know what happened that day." Vin murmured, "After we died."

"What happened to the rest of the town?" Nathan said, thinking about Rain.

"From what Yosemite told his kin and they've been telling down the line, the peacekeepers were killed and they burned down the town. Anyone who was still in town was killed, but they let the citizens go."

"So they just wanted to kill us? Bastards!" Buck growled out and picked up a rock just to throw it into the woods.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this torturous trip down memory lane," Ezra interrupted, "but have we found out how we survived, or rather came back?"

"I wasn't able to find any real cases about this happening before. None of my colleagues had heard of this before." Josiah sighed.

"So what do we do then? Go through life again? If we die, will we be reincarnated again?" JD asked.

This rest of the seven shuddered at the thought.

"Lost in time." Vin murmured.

"I never should've prayed." Chris said under his breath.

Vin looked to his friend in confusion, "Why would you praying have anything to do with us being reborn?"

"First prayer bad luck." Chris snorted.

Josiah then turned to Chris, "That was the first time you prayed?"

"Had no reason to talk to God after he took my wife and son." Chris shrugged.

"You think Mr. Larabee's prayer is the reason we're stuck on Earth?" Ezra asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's possible that it holds some significance."

Chris began to feel guilty for having the others go through this new version of hell. The pain of realizing all their loved ones were dead and gone while they were still alive.

"If we could reverse the prayer, would you all want to go back? We'd probably be dead." Chris said, looking to each of his men.

Setting up their camping supplies, they laid in a circle with a fire. They stared up at the open sky, talking about what they remembered. Some of them cried, having to be comforted by another, but they all went to sleep with the assurance that they would not let their second chance go to waste. As Ezra put it, 'Even if we wish to go back, we'd be dead and we'd still not be with those we cared about. They'd still have to live the rest of their lives with us gone.'

The next morning, five places were surprised to receive resignations. Buck sold his diner to another friend of his. He had papers drawn up to adopt JD, and several months of waiting and filing, the seven changed their names.

Danny, a descendant of Yosemite came up to the old property that him and his brothers had sold to the seven men looking to buy it. They were told they were welcome at any time to come up, and after about eight months, he got an invitation. Standing at the gate, he couldn't believe how everything had changed. The livery was restored, and several buildings had been built up around it. He could hear horses in the barn and saw dogs running down to greet him. It almost looked like a little town, but at the same time, it looked like one big estate. The sign on the gate read 'Four Corners'. If he remembered correctly, that was the name of the town.

JD ran up after the dogs.

"Hey! Glad you can make it." Said the cheerful teen.

"Thanks for inviting me. You didn't have to." Danny said, smiling himself. The boy's smile was infectious.

JD looked around him, "Well, we know a thing or two about missing home and family history." He turned back to the man, "We wouldn't dare cut you out of yours. Especially since you all let us live here."

"You all have been working hard I see."

"Some of us know our ways around a hammer and nail." Nathan said as he came out one of the buildings.

"So is this supposed to be like what the town used to look like?" asked Danny, following the other two as they led him further in.

"No, some of the modern ways are actually nice. The buildings are mostly the same, or have the same use. The saloon or bar we set up. The Clarion, we decided to honor it with making it a library. The general store we use as a storage for now. Boarding house is still a boarding house and livery still holds the horses. My—I mean the healing room we have as a vet area for the smaller animals. The healing room is now located near the main house." Nathan explained. "The church is now a little chapel."

"So are you going to open it to the public or something?" Danny asked, it had a tourist feel to it, but not quite.

"Not really. Just to close friends. We want to keep it as a safe place for as long as possible."

They went inside the main house with the dogs all rushing in around them and into the front room.

"Chaucer, get out of my chair." Buck huffed, as he tried to push the lab out of his seat. Ezra only chuckled as he worked on his computer from the couch. His dog came to join him after getting pulled off Buck's designated area. Chris walked into the front room from his office. He gave a small smile to Danny.

"Glad you could make it."

"No, thanks for having me. This place looks amazing." Danny said, looking at the well-crafted ranch house. The wood was finely polished, but everything had a cozy home feeling to it. Vin came in from the back with a cooler and a big smile. His hair, slowly being grown out.

"Caught a dozen."

"A dozen?" frowned Danny.

"Vin went fishing." Buck clarified.

Vin went around to the kitchen to clean his fish.

"So where's um…Josiah?" asked Danny, looking around for the big man.

"He should be arriving in ten minutes. Works near here." JD said, dropping to the floor to play with the dogs who all swarmed him.

Danny sat down in a rocking chair that Buck said Chris made, "So how have you all been able to afford to do all of this?"

"Ezra is a good gambler." Chris grinned.

"Poker player, I'm a good poker player. That's not even where all our money came from. JD here has learned to work the stock market quite well." Ezra said with a proud smile to their youngest.

"Once I got the hang of computers, I started playing around with a few things." JD grinned.

"I'm doing online school to relearn a few things from medical school. Things I can at least. The other stuff, I've been asking my old coworker. I'm working towards getting my doctorate degree." Nathan said.

"Wow, that's great." Danny looked to Chris, "So why did you ask me here though?"

The door opened and Josiah came in. There was a brief interruption of greetings and waiting for Vin to finish cleaning his fish before all eight sat down in the front room. Chris told the young man their story. How they were alive when Yosemite was. How they died. How they somehow were born again decades later. The young man looked extremely confused, and didn't seem like he was going to believe them, but then he remembered the stories he heard as a child. He had a vague memory of hearing their names before. When he had first heard their new names he was confused, but noticed how easily the others called each other by their names, like they'd been doing it for years. Nicknames thrown around, slip ups about their past being told…

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because, you're Yosemite's kin." Chris said with a rare smile, "You're a piece of our past. The little we have of it."

"And you're the only one in your family who cared about the stories." Josiah added.

"What do I do with it?"

"Well don't go saying you know seven Captain America type people." Buck said jokingly.

"The government will have a field day researching us." Nathan murmured.

"And it's not like we know how this happened." Vin said, petting Peso.

Danny nodded.

He stayed for dinner and a little bit longer after that before heading home. Chris dropped six stacks on the table, one for each of the others.

"You finished." Ezra smiled.

"Well I've got a lot of time on my hand." Chris sighed.

He had finished the 'more accurate' version of the tales of the Magnificent Seven. With any luck it would be published and he could contribute to their savings. Each man had contributed their stories along the way. It was revealing which was difficult to digest, but they had finished.

"Well," Vin looked to the others, "should we open up some beers?"

A year after the story of the Magnificent Seven was published, a man came to visit. Chris was the only one in the ranch house while the rest were either at work, out for a ride with the horses, or fishing.

"Are you the author of Magnificent Seven?" asked the man in the suit.

Chris looked him over, "I don't know what you're talking about, mister, but you're on private property."

"Apologies, Mr. Larabee. Where are my manners," the man pulled out an FBI badge, "Special Agent Steven Willis."

Chris rested himself against the doorjamb, effectively blocking the way into the house.

"I don't know what this is about—"

"It's about you and your friends' autobiographies." Said Agent Willis, "You all look far from dead."

"Fiction."

"Must be a great fiction to have all seven of your names present. Not to mention recordings of those men having previously existed in a town that used to be on this exact spot. Now, shall we cut the crap and start talking?"

The others returned and found Chris sitting across from another man unfamiliar to them. They instantly became alert. There were at least ten guns stashed around the house.

"Gentlemen. I want to personally welcome you into the twenty first century. Things must've changed quite a bit for you. How would you like to get back to what you're used to?"

"And what's that?" asked JD.

"Keeping the peace."

"I was already a policeman, think I'll pass." Chris said gruffly.

"I was thinking on a bigger scale. A special task force, operated through the FBI."

The seven looked at one another, confused and if they were honest with themselves, a bit interested in the proposal.

Chris turned back to the agent, "Keep talking."

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Hope you all enjoyed this story. Please if anyone wishes to continue this series, it is open and I'd love for you to do so. I may come back to this universe, I'm not sure. I have an actual list of stories I need to write. Love the reviews and all of you. Sorry I can't reply to those who are logged in as guest. I love all your comments too. Brings me joy. Very funny too.**


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